music

06 October 2004

David Hare's new play Stuff Happens, up now in London, portrays Bush, Blair and the Iraqi war. As John Lahr describes it in the NYer:

The lucid three-hour retelling is a sort of docu-fiction, in which the events, public statements, and segues are all authentic while the behind-closed-doors dialogue is either punched up from known sources or invented. In Hare's version of history, our leaders, who, like the rest of the nation, lost the illusion of invulnerability on September 11, 2001, are compelled to construct for the American people an unambivalent triumphalist fable of revenge.

But on what count, we wonder, does Lahr condescend?

Hare functions best as a dramatist when he assumes the role of reporter and allows his intellectual curiosity to override his literary immodesty.

CR sees no call for literary immodesty in Hare's work; that would be like asking Faulkner to please shorten his goddamn sentences. Among our most astute historians, Hare acts as well. Whereas Lahr insists that

From a theatrical point of view, the real Bush is a bad actor

not only do we wonder if Hare might not be a more reliable judge, but would add that this by no means is the first time that, with all due respect, we've marveled at US critics' failure to appreciate Hare's genius.

On the other hand, we sure cottoned to the Guardian's review. They laud Hare's reconsideration of character:

Bush, in many British eyes, is seen as some kind of holy fool or worse. But, through Hare's writing and Alex Jennings's performance, he emerges as a wily and skilful manipulator who plays the role of a bumbling pseudo-Texan but constantly achieves his desired ends. Jennings, with his wire-drawn upper lip and tentative gestures, has caught the Bush mannerisms exactly: more significantly, he suggests Bush is the most adroit politician on stage.

CQ more than once fought for the idea that clearly Bush is anything but dumb. We do not for an instant imagine that the depths and range of the presidents's perfidy have been plumbed, and we have rather been astonished by the regularity with which our friends - lib dems the lot - seem quite happy to condescend to Bush's intelligence if not lament its absence. Consitently underestimating this enemy has not thus far behooved the left, or civilization at large for that matter. We can't help but feel though that the most salient point, and one of which both Davey and Goliath seem well aware: 50% of the US identifies as fundamentalist or Born Again.

28 September 2004

Cervantes, Velazquez, Goya: though it may well have invented Modernism, Spain has also cradled the reactionary Catholic stronghold Opus Dei, itself something of an extension from Isabel and Ferdinand's fifteenth century rule. This is but one example of why contrarians consider the country the Capital of Contradiction

In a relevatory twist after the Atocha bombing last March, Spain rid itself of Aznar's reactionary regime and elected as Prime Minister one of Europe's most progressive new leaders, Jose Luis Rodriguez Zapatero.

The Spanish prime minister has called for an international effort to resolve cultural and religious differences between the Western and Muslim world. Jose Luis Rodriguez Zapatero said "an alliance of cultures" was necessary in a world facing conflict because of poverty and Islamic radicalisation. Mr Zapatero, at the UN General Assembly meeting, said the alliance could deepen political and cultural relations.

But Aznar and his cronies have just receeded, not diappeared and it would be unwise to imagine that the contradictions coloring all aspects of life in Spain would themselves disappear too soon.

27 September 2004

Inaki Camba, the charming chef at the Basque restaurant Arce, has quite a unique way of preparing meals. He himself comes to the table and asks forty questions about what you like and might want to try, about your preferences for ingredients, preparations and wines. Among the 18 courses he served us, we most fondly recall a foie with a 2001 Sauternes, Chateau Lamonte Violet. Very little if anything had been done to it: a bit of salt and a drizzle of oil. Hake cheeks also stood out as did the lovely flashfried sweet green chilis - pimientas de pedran de Galicia - that were just last week still in season. A bite of quail reminded us of ortolan; a tad too-sweet melon soup with Serrano left us cold. Maybe we'd been too fond of the Agush Taello Mata Reserva Brut cava - of which they poured us about 4 glasses each - to remember much else unassisted and unfortunately copious notes took were in a notebook we unfortunately lost. Why we never have trouble recalling wines remains a mystery: we enjoyed both a 98 Guigal Condrieu and a 94 Dapmau Reserva Rioja, though neither matched the food all that well. CQ recommends a visit; 50 Euros each for lunch seemed a deal.

Arce, Augusto Figueroa 32, 91-522-59-13

Even Keith McNally would be hardpressed to recreate the ancient, authentic, smoke-stained vibe of Madrid's La Venencia. A bar that serves neither beer nor vodka, La Venencia's singular beverage available is unlabeled Sherry and by god is it delicious. We love to drink fine fino in Spain, but haven't been convinced that it travels well as in our experience it's never quite potable here. Sherry, English for Jerez, is of course the Andalucian town where sherry's made. But it was only in the throes of its embrace at La Venencia that we learned that sherry (and Jerez) have their etymological roots in the originally Iraqui / Iranian or Mespotamian grape, Shiraz. We'd strongly advise visitors not to miss La Vanencia's incredible lomo, cured pork loin, but the mojama, cured tuna, seemed a bit salty. Next stop, same block: Los Gabrieles for about more sherries and canas, or beers. You can then head out to the Kingston, Sweet, the Factory and Bamboo (were there others?) well past dawn.

Madrid's literary cafe El Gijon, should you drop by, is fine for drinks but we'd not recommend the food. Tis however just a short jaunt to Bardemcilla, where though he's not likely to appear, you can bet the owner, Spain's sexiest actor Javier Bardem has cooled a spell or two.

The one restaurant we really loved this trip was Taberna Cazorla on General Pardinas, an Andalucian tavern run by 3 brothers who send gorgeous tapas out with each drink. First arrived a chistorra, chorizo-like fat lil sausages with yet more of the delicious green peppers - pimientas de pedran de Galicia. Used to be these were a Russian roulette of sorts as most are sweet but occassionally a hot one strikes. They've become more highly bred and it's less common these days to get the spicy ones. Two of us shared a mixed fry of the world's freshest fishies, lightly battered and fried in gorgeous, fresh, clean olive oil that arrived so light and thin we wouldn't have been suprised to see them fly. The three kinds of squid on our plate include calamare, chipirones and chopitos; also, cigalas and baby clams as well as baby dover sole. A delicious steak served on a toast smeared with evoo and tomato guts drew high marks all around. This is the place I'd eat daily if I were to move to Madrid. 30 Euros for all of us, food and drinks included seemed a steal.

20 September 2004

While Portland's Genoa and l'Auberge have long been noted for serious, classic cuisine (si, Italian and French respectively), Zefiro (c. 1989/90) was widely credited as the first ingredient-driven, Californian-influenced, forward-thinking restaurant. Castagna, opened by the people formerly of Zefiro, carries on the tradition of great food carefully sourced and thoughtfully prepared. We ate there twice.

Among drinks to start: Impear, made from pear brandy, by local distiller/genius Steve McCarthy at Clear Creeks, and lemon with crystalized ginger; Pimms with cucumber and lime; and a Martini Rosino: Stoli and Campari with lemon.

Favorite appetizers included Xato, an olive oil poached tuna with romesco and frisee. Of the olive oil- and butter-poached fish we've had in the last few years, this one we liked best. Its romesco lent a bright, complex buoyancy. Sauteed scallops, perfectly browned on the surface with lightly cooked interiors, arrived on top of shaved fennel and sea beans. Phenomenal arancini, fried rice balls with fontina; fresh and tangy butter lettuce salad with chives and a tarragon vinaigrette royalle; and the Caesar salad were all above par. A country pate, we agreed, was dull.

Painted Hills farms is the beef of choice among gourmets in Oregon today, with good reason. We had a grilled flat iron from them here with huge flavor. (We'd also shared a Painted Hills hamburger the day we went to the wineries, at the Dundee Cafe, and must say that New Yorkers would be hard pressed to find such quality beef in their town.)

Castagna's Mac and cheese - penne with gruyere, cheddar and parmesan - arrived perfectly crusty and browned: an incredibly rich, tasty comfy dish. A pesto, potato, pine nut and parmesan pizza made fast and delicious work of alliteration thin crust. The Lamb didn't hold much interest, but it was easy to see why the hamburger, served with extraordinary fries on a brioche bun, is the locals' favorite standard.

Wines were a gorgeous and well-priced ($35!) 1998 Gigondas from Domaine Les Chenes Blancs and a Chateau Jean-Pierre Gaussen Bandol. However the ringer at Castagna was a Huckleberry sorbet that made me love Mark Twain even more.

Clarklewis, a gorgeous industrial restaurant that opened last February, has roll-up glass walls make the space indoor-outdoor. The kitchen too is wide open: you can see all thats going on with the wood-burning oven and open rotisserie. Cool wine list, mostly European with goodly numbers of Oregonians. We first tried the Oregonian winemaker Ponzi's Arneis, the white Italian grape that apparently does well in Oregon which we found perfectly lovely. On a brief first visit we sat at the terribly cool bar. The stool seats are an orange foam (orange the new black) and the bars backsplash walls are a tigerwood veneer with individual shelves, one protruding cube per bottle. We just had a few small dishes, as this was a reconnaissance flight in predetermination of a big feast. Spicy breakfast radishes with bagna cauda; grilled scallops with fennel; and (omigod) pork cheek fritters all charmed us silly, so we wrangled a reservation for six the following night. The six of us ordered the tasting menu at (are you seated?) $30 a head: 3 appetizers (requested the scallops), 3 pastas and 3 or 4 meaty entrees. The apps were again delicious, one of the pastas was great and the entrees left us pretty much unimpressed. Over cooked fish, indifferent beef ribs; cannot recall what else and seem to have misplaced the menu. Fun place, though not as good eating as we enjoyed at Castagna.

Navarre - reminded me of Il Buco a few years ago. Lovely space, nice wine list. Though its reputation would make you think otherwise, the food wasn't great. Simple and fresh, yes. Achingly hip, yes. But not a place to which we'd race back. Would however have liked to try Tabla, on the same block.

We'd advise a stop at Pastaworks on Hawthorne, where the fellow behind the butcher counter makes a number of cured meats himself. For a picnic we picked up two of his hams - one herby and the other smoked, both remarkably good - as well as the pastrami and corned beef he imports from New York. Good cheese selection too. Plus its attached to the Powells Books forCooks and Gardeners, which is as fine a way to kill a couple few hours as can be devised.

In general, you find considerably better bread and bakeries in Oregon than you do in New York. Every little market carries the phenomenally good and always fresh Grand Central breads. Also, Ken's Artisanal baked goods are not to be missed.

Among the other highlights of the trip were visits to Domaine Serene, which makes our favorite domestic wine, and Clear Creek Distilley, where Great American Genius (tm) Steve McCarthy produces Eaux de Vies, plum brandies, grappas, whiskeys, calvados, and a newly devised Douglas Fir liqueur.